“The holidays” are very scary and vulnerable times for me & I often think back to when I lived alone and realize that it’s a miracle I made it through. Not being dramatic here, but painfully real and honest because the last few months have stirred something in me and I’m just done with being a pretender. I used to be so open on here and with everyone who knew me, and all that caused was me losing friend after friend because no one can handle it. (Can someone give Janna an award for sticking around since we were in 6th grade? This girl has seen me at my fucking worst, has been in the hospital with me, and has watched sadly as I made jokes about the bite marks I gave myself in a fit of hysteria.) Honestly, I am so fucking fake and I am just exhausted with living every single day like I’m in some never-ending poorly-scripted high school play. My social anxiety is sky-high and this is always the time of year when people want to put me in rooms with strangers. And not even strangers — at work last week, we had a little holiday cocktail thing, just for our department. A small department full of people who I get along well with, some of them I’ve known for 7 years at this point, but the thought of being in an open corridor with all of them at once made my heart race. I ran in and grabbed a drink before it got crowded and then motherfucking ghosted. I probably look like a huge stuck-up bitch, but I just can’t handle it like a normal person. I literally do not know how to mingle anymore so please don’t put me in a crowded room, I beg you.
The holidays still are hard for me to get through but now I have A HenryTM to babysit me. I had another very ugly cry and rant session with him last night and the one thing that I took away from it, that I said over and over to Henry, is “I don’t WANT to feel like this.” So today I am going to try to fixate on the good things, because I can’t change who I am, at least not at the moment, and I can’t go back in time and stop tragedies from happening. And I’m going to tell myself what I know Henry has been biting his tongue to prevent from saying, but I have GOT to move past this. And no one is going to make that happen but me, which is 100% something I’ve learned after living with this for 30+ years.
I’m not blind to why Jonghyun’s death has triggered me so much. It’s because this could have been me hundreds of different times over my life. It has stopped me cold in my tracks, made me reevaluate my life, what I want from my future, what I have learned from my past. Yes, it’s fucking fall-to-your-knees sad and tragic and I have cried an embarrassing amount of times over it, because it has affected me in some way that only I can understand. So please fuck right off with that “you didn’t even know him” bullshit line. How many times did he tell himself, “Just hang on for one more day, stay here for your family, think of your friends” before that pep talk just didn’t cut it anymore? How much worse than this does it need to get before you’re not scared to let go anymore? I think about this and feel so frantic.
The irony of this all is not lost on me, how something that was able to lift me up after a traumatic 2016 has managed to do a complete 180 and make me feel so sad and despondent a year later. Life is SO FUCKING FUNNY like that.
I’m going to try to be more open, even if it means possibly losing friends, because that is what always happens. It’s just hard when I’m crying at work and someone is like, “What’s wrong?” and it’s just literally me feeling sad for no reason that makes sense to anyone so then I’m just like, “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything in my life is wonderful but I’m just sad.” And truly, everything in my life is wonderful. I have a great, supportive family; I have a good job working with people I genuinely like; I’m physically well; I have amazing friends who check in with me and are so much to be around; and I do a lot of really fun things. But then these feelings come back and overshadow all the good and all I can see is the bad, the negative, the morbid. I used to be so honest about these issues on here, and I would get messages from strangers telling me that it helped them to know they weren’t alone, that they could relate. I want to do that again, instead of hiding who I am out of embarrassment or fear because this blog is less anonymous now than it was then. If me laying out my demented mind and putting my fragile guts on display can stop just one person from succumbing to utter despair and hopelessness, then the pain it took for me to write this is worth it.
To try to give myself closure in order to work toward getting myself better, I went full-blown Girl Scout craft-mode last night, because sometimes I just need to be a kid gluing stuff to a thing in order to nudge the grieving process along. So I made this flower frame, which is now hanging in my room, as a reminder to keep getting out of bed and to keep living with the belief that the next day will be better.
It gets better. And if it doesn’t, I guess I will have to try harder to make it.